


Shipping is Srs Bsns

by let2gotwoapplebee2



Category: Homestuck
Genre: F/F, F/M, M/M, Silly
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2011-12-31
Updated: 2012-05-25
Packaged: 2017-10-28 14:54:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 3,606
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/309056
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/let2gotwoapplebee2/pseuds/let2gotwoapplebee2
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A writing challenge with a friend of mine, where I do my best to write at least a drabble for any pairing she suggests. The results go here. No characters are safe. No quadrant is sacred.<br/>Equal parts sincere and silly.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Eridan?Sollux

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Silly silly silly.  
> Quadrant: ?

“I’m jutht thaying I don’t think thith ith nethethary.”

“Shut up. If you’re gonna fill a quadrant wwith me, you gotta look the part. Evven if you are a stinkin pissblood.”

“I- But-“

“No buts. I’m not gonna let a commoner like you givve me any kinda order.”

Eridan snatches Sollux’s upper arm in a gaudily jeweled hand and sparks of energy flare around him.

“Don’t fucking touch me! I don’t want to do thith and that’th final!”

Eridan’s grip stays strong, despite the burn through his palm, yanking the psionic toward him.

“Listen here, Captor.” He fists his free hand in the hair near Sollux’s ear, giving it a sharp tug. “This is happenin and you frankly don’t get any fuckin say in it.” The scrawny psychic flails, hissing and gnashing his teeth. Red and blue sparks dance across his face as he tries desperately to writhe himself from the sea-dweller’s grip.

“Fuck thith!” he shrieks, finally tearing loose, though missing a few hairs, “Fuck thith and fuck you and Kanaya, fuck you too for playing along!”

He storms off in a huff, and Eridan stares after him fondly.

“And that fit, Kan, is wwhy he’s a great… wwhatevver wwe are.”

“Well. Now I am confused. So, am I or am I not making him a cape to match yours?”

“Givve it time, Kan. Givve it time.”


	2. Dave/Terezi

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Food Network and fluff  
> Quadrant: <3

Terezi sniffs deeply, brows furrowed. She hikes her knees a little higher and drums impatient, spindly fingers against them.

“Steak chunks with cheese, sour cream, black beans, and pico de gallows. She’s making burritos.”

“It’s pronounced “PEE-koh de GAI-oh”, goober,” Dave corrects, absently brushing her hair. She slides her legs out and readjusts herself on the floor between Dave’s legs.

“Well, did I get it right?”

“Eyup. That’s my punkin. So smart with her color-guessing nose. Baby, I’m gonna take you to the State Fair and we’ll make it big, just you wait. Then we can sell the farm and try and make it in the big city. You’ll be famous and I’ll ride your coattails all the way to the bank.”

“Dave, that was literally impenetrable with your stupid being human references. I still have no idea what a state fair is.”

“If you really cared, you’d google it.”

“That’s beside the point. When’s Paula Deen on? She’s so much easier. It’s just butter. Everywhere.”

“Don’t worry about it. Just let Aaron Sanchez’s charming, Hispanic cuisine wash over your freaky eye-nose-tongue sensory combo. Just listen to how pleasant. I mean, damn. That’s some suave-ass shit.” Dave unmutes the television and the two are silent for a spell, letting Chef Sanchez’s instructions on how to make the burrito more appetizing wash over them.

Their game was stupid, muting the Food Network and having Terezi guess what was being made from the smell of it, but stupid is Dave’s specialty. He rakes his fingers through the freshly-brushed patch of hair before him, smirking with pride, before resuming the Herculean task of managing a blind girl’s hair.

“Dave, is it racist if I say that Aaron Sanchez smells like refried beans? Because I still don’t get what race is and that’s just how he smells.”

Dave drops the brush and collapses into laughter. He grips at Terezi’s shoulders as he pitches forward, unable to contain himself. Between gasps and giggles, he gives her shoulders tiny squeezes. He winds up with his chin between her horns, catching his breath.

“That’s a yes, isn’t it? Dave, what even is race? I still don’t get it!”

“Don’t worry too much about it. It’s not that important. Just don’t comment on skin colors and you’re fine.”

“I’m not going to lie to you and say that man doesn’t smell like beans, Dave. It isn’t racism, it is an immutable fact. I am not about to pervert the truth to keep some humans from getting too butthurt.”

A snort bursts from Dave and he plants a kiss on her crown before resuming his brushing. A comfortable silence snuggles around them when Dave remutes the television. Terezi gently squeezes the tops of Dave’s feet and sighs. Her mouth hangs open to give her tongue a better view, though she spends as much time keeping it out as she does rewetting it and her parched black lips. She decides seeing Chef Sanchez is less important than comfort when she pulls her tongue back in and settles with a soft smile. Above her, Dave cautiously works the brush around her horns. He can just see her red, sightless eyes beyond the tangle of her bangs. He pauses his ministrations and secludes in his thought for a moment.

“Hey Rez? What color did your eyes used to be?”

“Lem-… Yellow.”

Dave reaches down to her chin to tip her head backwards. He slides the pointed glasses off her face and takes 4…5...6 seconds to stare at the burnt-out red and the wiry lashes framing it. A quick peck slaps her nose and she bursts into giggles.

“Red’s cooler anyway,” Dave proclaims flatly.

“Dave, you don’t have to poker face me. I’m blind, remember?”

“Well, if you can tell I’m poker facing, clearly you aren’t blind enough.”

"You still haven't told me when Paula Deen comes on next."


	3. John/Karkat

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> John throws a bucket, then thinks. Interruption courtesy of Davesprite.  
> Quadrant: <3

John Egbert lays on his back on the ship, staring at the whooshing green overhead and all around. He tucks his hands behind his head, then flops them out to his side. He pulls his knees up, crosses a leg, shoots his legs out, kicks at the air. He fidgets and flails, driving his ectosibling to distraction.

“John, what is even wrong? You’ve been flapping around for the past twenty minutes and you’re driving me crazy!”

“Jade?”

“What?!”

“Did Karkat seem like he’d been crying when I threw the letter to him?”

“I wasn’t paying that much attention. I was kind of focused on being a portal, John.”

“Eheheh, yeah, I guess so…”

John chews his lip and rolls onto his stomach. He stares ahead, blank and unseeing. _Why would Karkat be crying? he wonders. What kind of day must he have had? What’s been happening to him? I hope he’s okay. I hope he feels better. I hope my letter cheers him up._ John smiles to himself before a coarse voice interrupts his reverie.

“Hey. Hey. Hey. Fuckin caw! Earth to Egderp. I’m gonna start swingin my fuckin sword. Egbeeeeeeert! Caw caw fucking caw!”

“Oh, hey, uh, what?”

“Jegus fuck, you gotta stop doing this forgetting about me shit. It gets old. You promised you’d help with my fucking nest bullshit right around now o’ clock and, would you look at that! It’s now o’ fuckin clock.”

“Oh my god, what even shoved your feathers up your nonexistent ass?”

“You forgot me on a shrank-ass planet. I’ve developed abandonment issues. Your fault.”

“I’m so sure.”

“Whatever. Nest. Go.”

“Ugh…”

\---

 _I SWEAR TO FUCKING GOG I WILL END THAT LITTLE NOOKSTAIN. I WILL WRING HIS FUCKING NECK. NO, I’LL STRANGLE HIM WITH HIS OWN INNARDS. THE RANCID BULGEBITER PROBABLY DOESN’T EVEN FUCKING KNOW WHAT HE DID, THE STUPID SHIT. BUT WHY IN THE TAINTCHAFING FUCK WOULD HE THROW A FUCKING METAL PAIL AT SOMEONE’S FACE? DOES HE JUST HAVE WIND FOR A FUCKING THINKPAN NOW?_

 _But wow, that letter is kind of sweet. IN A COMPLETELY STUPID IDIOT MORON GRUBFUCK KIND OF WAY._

 _ASSHAT._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Headcanon: Davesprite gets really antsy, regarding anything birdy he needs to do.


	4. Sollux?Ro-Lal

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hacking shenanigans.  
> Shut up, I really like them.  
> Quadrant: Likely concupiscient?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> \--On typing as Ro--  
> If anyone was wondering, Ro's typos are organic. To type the following monstrosities, I closed my eyes,raised my wrists from the keyboard, and typed as fast as I could manage. More egregious errors were toned down, but awesome ones got to stay. So, yeah. Hope that's helpful to someone.

Sollux stretches out in his computer chair. The grueling Alternian sun is already high in the sky as he considers the notion of sliding into his recuperacoon. An icon starts blinking on the side of his screen. Lol, nope, mumbles some vague thought.

\--tipsyGnostalgic [TG] began trolling twinArmageddons [TA]--

TG: twinarmageddons?  
TG: srsly?  
TG: oh looka t me im a whiny 14 yeaar old and my life is sp gloooooomy and dark adn derp  
TG: *deep  
TG: *actually that was better the first tiem. disregrard change.  
TA: and who the hell are you?  
TG: im ur worst ntighamatre  
TG: *naioghtmaore  
TG: fuck that was worse  
TG: *nightmare  
TG: got it!  
TA: riight 2o my niightmare2 are 2pelliing centric. good two know.  
TG: woah ok that shit stops right the fuck thatre  
TG: *there  
TG: i am not sobre enough for you to do facny typing bullshit  
TA: tough tiittiie2 biitch. now who the hell are you?  
TG: im a super tough hacker bitch fueled by appletinis and whicksy on the frocks  
TG: *whisky on the rocks  
TG: whicksy ont he frocks would be whore bible hehehe  
TA: waiit waiit waiit  
TA: are you fuckiing human?  
TG: hell yea bitch! im a sexy human techno wiz BABE  
TA: how the hell diid you get two my trolliian account?  
TG: can you srsly not read  
TG: sexy  
TG: hacker  
TG: babe  
TG: i thought i was pretty forthcoming with this onformation  
TG: *information  
TA: no you made that abundantly clear. dont worry. my concern here ii2 that youre hacking another fuckiing uniiver2e  
TG: sexy  
TA: whiich ii2 fuckiing impo22iible iif you dont have acce22 to the 2hiit ii do  
TG: hacker  
TA: waiit no not more of thii2  
TG: babe  
TG: ill just keep sayin it til you get it  
TG: or i guess you could just use that creepy view port thigny  
TA: iim not about two creep on an iintru2iive piink monkey. not worth my time.  
TG: k then I guess you dont get 2 knwo how I havked into ur shitty troll uncubers  
TG: *universe  
TG: damn that was a bad one  
TA: ok 2o ii am curiiou2 about that. ii thiink ii can get over how riidiiculou2 you are iif you tell me how the hell that happened.  
TG: it involves me inverstinating some sketch lookin code in some files which I tots got thru my superior sexy hackin skillz  
TG: it had some freakyass lines like {universe type boolean red}. False condition was blure  
TG: *blue  
TG: I tweadked it and put it thru pestermcjim and got this shit  
TG: *esterchum  
TG: lolnope pestermcjim  
TA: holy 2hiit you can even run that kiind of code?  
TG: irrepelfpahtn  
TG: *I wasnt even trying lol  
TA: how diid you even naviigate that code? there2 nothiing liike iit anywhere iin any earth 2y2tem  
TA: youre  
TA: youre amazing  
TG: yea p much  
TA: who are you?  
TG: did i not alearyd say?  
TG: ur worst nightmare  
TA: okay 2tatement retracted. youre two obnoxiiou2 two be amazing.   
TG: oh come on tightass  
TG: im fucking frantastic  
TA: iim iimpre22ed. that’2 all.  
TA: that’2 all youre goiing two get from me.  
TG: ugh whatever  
TG: ur boring now. imma go harass someone else now  
TG: and get another martini  
TG: avtually  
TG: martini first  
TA: waiit ii 2tiill dont under2tand 2ome 2hiit  
TG: 2 bad.

\--tipsyGnostalgic [TG] ceased trolling twinArmageddons [TA]--

TA: well 2hiit


	5. Equius/Rose

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Making Things  
> Quadrant: Pale? Maybe just platonic friendship?

Rose crosses her ankles delicately, minding the bolts, screws, and plates piled around her feet. The ornate antique chair’s cushion creaks and crackles beneath her shifting weight. She continues to knit dedicatedly at the sweater body that pools steadily in her lap. The sunshine yellow yarn dangles from her needle, draping in several neat lines across the lap of the troll sitting dutifully at her side.

Equius sits cross-legged on the ground, tinkering delicately with the metal odds and ends around him. He takes a moment to reverently straighten the yarn lines of the human he once thought to be royal-blooded before resuming his machinations. He remembers his shock at learning that she was neither a sea-dweller nor a monarch. There was nothing in her elegance or her refined air to betray that she was more likely to be teal-blooded in caste, but in her there is a quality of nobility to her that transcends status. Equius finds himself admiring this more than he ever could a brusque, but true-born noble, such as an arrogant purple-blood, for a completely random example.

“So, Equius, will you be using all of these parts here?”

“Will you be using all of the yarn here?”

“Well, I’m not sure yet.”

“And you have your own answer now.”

The two share a smile and return to their ministrations.


	6. Tavros/Jade

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Flowers  
> Quadrant:<3, or maybe

A deep frown set itself across Tavros’ fangs as he accidentally shredded another daisy. Frustrated, he swiped at another from his infinite stock, this time slicing the head off.

“No! No no no…” he whimpered, rumbling out a defeated sigh.

“Oh, hush, Tavros. What’s wrong?” Jade furrowed her brows at the distressed troll and his pile of dismembered flowers.

“I… just want to make a… petalplant crown like you m-made…”

“Aww!” She cocked her head and a tangle of brown-black swung around her shoulder.

“But I can’t… I’m too, well… sharp.”

Jade’s eyes widened to saucers and, for a moment, Tavros was worried they might fall out. He was pretty sure he’d seen that happen to a troll before, though it could’ve just been one of his old nightmares.

“Here, here, here. Let me make it, then, you goof!”

“But I wanted to make it!” He clapped his hands over his mouth and flushed. “’M’forry’m’forry’m’forry!” he whimpered, muffled. He cracked his fingers open a slim margin and squeaked, “I didn’t mean to yell,” between them.

“Pfffft, you’re fine. Now calm down. I’ll make your flower crown for you and that’s that.”

“Flower…?” Tavros tried out the human word, deciding he liked it. “Flower.”

As she wove together blooms from her inexhaustible supply, she marveled at how Tavros always sounds like he’s speaking Spanish, with his accented vowels and rolled r’s and sharp t’s. She grinned to the slowly forming flower circle.

There was a soft _whump_ in front of her. She blinked and realized that Tavros had flopped in front of her to watch her work. She moved a bit slower, hoping to help him catch her motions. He watched raptly for a meaninglessly long stretch of time until, at long last, Jade linked the ends together.

“Here,” she smiled, laying the crown on his head, smiling when she saw that the edges just reached the bases of his horns. A tuft of blackest   
black hair, stirred from place, fell over the frontmost flowers.

“Jade, it’s beautiful!” he chirruped. His eyes would have lit up, were they any color but white.

Jade awoke on the ship with a start, little different from when she’d gone to sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> She's got 3 years. She's gotta sleep sometime.


	7. Jake/Dirk

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Frost.  
> Quadrant: Un.

“I’m just saying I think this could be a right proper adventure!”  
“Oh is that what this is? An adventure? I’m so glad you’ve found your newest sport.”  
His voice is the frost Houston’s never seen.  
“Now, chap, you know that’s not what I’m trying to say-“  
“Hm. Interesting. According to my calculations, though, there’s a 95% chance you’re bullshitting me. Are you bullshitting me, Jake?”  
You marvel that you can’t see his breath, despite the sweat rolling in broad columns down your spine.  
“Dirk, I’m just trying to say that this is a new ordeal for me and it’s exciting!”  
“Ah, yes. Well do forgive me. I find I’m rather unaccustomed to being a fucking ordeal. Big deal, yes. Ordeal, no.”  
Is that gel or ice that keeps his hair in place.  
“You know what? I was thinking this could maybe work! And now I bloody well know better. Sorry to have wasted your precious fucking time, Dirk.”  
“It’s quite alright. I understand. What are long-suffering friends for?”  
Dirk Strider is quite possibly the coldest person you’ve ever met.


	8. Dave/Karkat

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Barometric Pressure  
> Quadrant: Flushed, I swear.

“Karkat.”  
“Fuck you.”  
“Karkat.”  
“Fuck you.”  
“Karkaaaaaaat-“  
“What the grubgargling fuck do you want?”  
“Baby, you never tell me I’m pretty anymore.”  
Out the window, angry gray clouds gather. Karkat’s ears have pinned themselves back and his vertebrae crowd themselves in his neck, all hunched and bothered. There’s another shift in the air pressure and it lifts a growl from the troll. Weather is not on Dave’s side today.  
“Karkat. Baby, tell me I’m pretty like you used to.”  
This fact has never stopped him before.  
“Shut your fucking mouth, you worthless bag of meat.” His every word shakes with a snarl.  
Dave props himself up onto an elbow, legs still a gangling mess off the edge of the couch. He measures himself carefully, face placid as marble, as he sizes up the angry gray monster he lives with. The troll’s fingers are a taut curl with cracked-sharp claws at the ready and his back is a perfect parenthesis to match the contracted shape of his stomach. Well, if it’s a fight Karkat wants, Dave is willing to oblige.  
“Baaaby, why you gotta be like that.” It isn’t a question, it’s bait. Karkat leaps for it.  
“I swear to fucking Jegus, I will rend your idiot lips from your idiot face with just my hands and force of will if you keep this fucking ridiculous dialect up.”  
“Oh would you now, Karkitten?”  
“Do you want to fucking TEST me, Strider?”  
“There exists the distinct possibility, sweetheart.”  
“Oh, I DARE you to step closer, bulgegobbler.”  
Dave finds himself shifting his on his feet, shifting them farther apart and moving his weight to the balls of his feet. On the other side of the couch, Karkat’s feet are planted boulder-firm. Rain begins to splatter against the windows around them and the petite troll shudders like it wounds him. Finding his opening, Dave vaults the couch in a blink and has the bundle of rage bent backwards over the breakfast table. Karkat snaps and snarls and swipes at the human’s face. His glasses go flying and the two still for a moment as Karkat, framed by arms that pin him by his shoulders, stares at the paradoxically passion-wild eyes burning so vivid against a deadened face. His own eyes are all black blown pupils, red bleeding into the edges, fighting back the yellow to the barest corners.  
“I swear to fuck, Strider, I will en-“  
White pierces the apartment with a metalrumble peal of thunder tight against it. A high warble twists from Karkat and the lights flicker out. The troll tenses and shakes, nauseous and anxious. He finds himself abruptly righted, arms twisting around his chest. Dave grazes a cheek across his forehead and he permits himself to melt into the human. A strife-calloused hand pets Karkat’s hair down smooth, thumb soothing gentle lines against the shell of his ear.  
“You’re okay, Kit,” a familiar voice reminds. Karkat tangles his fists into Dave’s shirt and slowly and carefully, the human sinks them to the floor. The troll clambers desperately into the bony lap and curls a ball around the usually stoic-rigid chest, quivering into the sure and certain arms.  
Dave carefully situates a kiss on Karkat’s forehead. His hands rub soft circles on the small troll’s back and in his hair. He mumbles reassurance into an irritably flicking ear and leaves kisses along it when the reassurances don’t work. He sneaks the hand in the wiry black tangle a bit higher, stopping his fingertips just an inch from candy cane horns.  
“Trust me?” It’s a question, a nervous one, like it always is. The nod in response is almost immediate and Dave hazards a quick and gently ghosting of his fingers around Karkat’s hornbed. Almost instantly, the tension melts from the troll. Dave tugs his fingers away and resumes massaging the sensitive scalp. Karkat nuzzles at a bit of shoulder and Dave hides a kiss in his messy tangle of hair.  
The next sunrise finds them tipped over, still tangled, asleep against the wrong side of the couch.


	9. Aradia/Sollux

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Staring at the Sun  
> Quadrant: Paaaaale

“…And KK thought I was looking at the puppet. I mean, really? Really?”

Aradia floats lazily at Sollux’s side, occasionally reaching out to offer a comforting hand to hold. When she holds still long enough, he sometimes reaches out to try and braid her hair. With no depth perception, it always fails, but it doesn’t keep him from trying.

“I know, Sollux. I know. Really, though, I think it’s for the best. I don’t think Gamzee could really hold up much of a relationship outside his pale quadrant right now.”

A dramatic sigh heaves itself from his slim chest.

“I knooow, but that’s hardly the point. The point is that Karkat is dumb enough to think I’m overcome with feelings for a creepyass horrorpuppet. I just… That dumbass.”

Aradia grabs for his longer, skinnier fingers.

“It’s okay, Sollux. I miss him too.”

He lays back, supported by nothing, drifting through the green glowing empty with her. She slings strong arms around him and he strokes her hair.

“I miss everyone.”

“We’ll see people soon, Sollux.”

“That doesn’t make me miss them less.”

“I know, Sollux. I know.”

“I guess it’s better than dead.”

“We should know that, if anyone.”


	10. Gamzee/Karkat

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hairbrush  
> Quadrant: Pale

Gamzee stares at the back of Karkat’s head, willing it to make sense. He spends as much time yanking bristles through the matted mess as he does trying to untie knots with his fingers. Under his hands, though, Karkat’s shoulders slump. Angry coils of muscle slowly unwind themselves.

“Best friend, we gotta up and have a talk about how you take care of your motherfuckin panbristles.”

“As if you, of all people, can tell me how to take care of my fucking panbristles.”

“Just cause I’m not all up on the business of proper motherfuckin maintenance doesn’t mean I can’t be all recognizing where it needs to happen.”

“Shoosh. Go back to the brushing.”

“Whatever you say, best friend.”

Gamzee doesn’t say much else, largely absorbed in the task at hand. Karkat feigns a sour attitude, but when Gamzee offers his first two fingers spread in a V, Karkat meets their tips with his own to make a diamond.


End file.
